


Subterfuge

by craterdweller



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Canon Style Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craterdweller/pseuds/craterdweller
Summary: Jean-Luc goes missing and Beverly must figure out what's happened to him.





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weakinteraction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/gifts).



Dr. Beverly Crusher gripped the armrest of the command chair as she squirmed to find a more comfortable position. For all its bells and whistles, she still preferred the older bridge design of Enterprise D. Although, she supposed she had the E’s auto-activating seat restraints to thank for having to patch Jean-Luc up with a lot less frequency.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes Lieutenant?’

“We’re receiving a subspace transmission from the colony on Pacifica. Priority 2 channel.”

“On screen.”

“Beverly, it is good to see you. Myrna was so disappointed when she heard you wouldn’t be able to attend this year’s conference. We missed Jean-Luc at the reception. This morning we checked the docking manifest — his ship hasn’t arrived yet.Has something come up? We’ve rescheduled his talk for later. It’s probably nothing …”

“Hasn’t arrived? Tyrrell, he should have arrived three days ago. After he departed the Enterprise in the Cousteau, we left the area to answer a distress call from the USS Salk.”

“Well he’s not here. And there’s no record of any communications which is why Myrna insisted I contact you. It’s not like him.”

“No. He’s a stickler for being punctual. I’ll advise Command that we’re going to retrace the Cousteau’s flight path. I’ll be in touch.”

“We’ll do what we can from our end. Good luck, Beverly.”

The view screen returned to the streak of stars after the comm channel closed. “Lieutenant, advise Starfleet Command. Ensign Roya set course for the Cousteau’s last known location. Warp factor six.”

“Aye, sir.”

Beverly paused at the door to the ready room. “Lieutenant, you have the con.”

The room seemed empty without its owner. She hesitated in front of the desk and then detoured to replicator inset in the wall.

“Tea, English Breakfast with a twist of cinnamon,” she ordered.

The machine hummed materializing her drink, the soothing aroma calming her nerves. She sat down behind the immaculate desk; its surface free of objects except a lone data pad. She instructed the computer to display all recent incidents involving space travel in the sectors along the runabout’sflight path.

The chirp of the door chime announced a visitor.

“Come.”

Lieutenant Commander Barclay, temporarily assigned to the Enterprise to oversee the upgrade to the sensor array, fidgeted just inside the door.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How goes the refit?”

“Well, uh, the calibration tests on the long range sensors are returning strange readings.”

“Strange how?”

“Well, either the new sensors are malfunctioning or …”

“Or?”

“Or there is a cloaked vessel following us.”

“That’s a pretty big distinction Reg. How long before you can eliminate malfunction as the cause?”

“Twelve hours.” He fidgeted. There was something else.

“But …”

“But, we’ll have to drop out of warp.”

“The Captain is missing. We don’t have that luxury Commander.”

“With respect, ma’am. The long range sensors are our best chance for finding him. If these shadows are a result of a malfunction, we could pass within a few parsecs of him and not even see him.”

Beverly frowned. Logically, she knew Reg was right. She tapped her communicator. “Ensign, reduce to sub-light speed until Mr. Barclay has finished his analysis on the ship’s scanners. Maintain present course.”

“Aye, sir.”

She turned to Barclay, “Reg, I need those sensors back online as soon as possible. If those ‘shadows’ are a cloaked vessel, we’ll need all systems battle ready.”

The doors closed behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She put her untouched cup of tea, long since cold, back into the replicator for recycling and returned to her research. There seemed to be a disproportionate number of vessels that had disappeared recently. Why hadn’t this been mentioned in any of the recent reports from Starbase 47? She pulled up the last six reports fromthe Starbase. “That’s odd. Computer, show me the personnel records of Commander Constance Wolk, currently assigned to Starbase 47.” An image of a woman in her mid-fifties appeared along side her service record on the small screen. An austere face, framed by black hair streaked with white, the laugh lines surrounding her blue eyes suggested her dour look did not match her personality. Assigned command of the Starbase after serving several tours on board Intrepid and Raven class starships, she showed competence if not excellence. Beverly settled back into her chair and continued to read.

* * *

Jean-Luc walked fifteen paces across the stone floor to stare out the tiny glassless window. A lighthouse, its beacon cutting through the sea mist, sat atop an outcropping of rock; the only significant feature on an otherwise monotonous view. He had outgrown any romantic notions of the sea years ago. He grabbed ahold of the iron bars barricading the window and tried to twist to no avail. Despite the caustic salt air, the bars were new so had yet to succumb to rust. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he sat back down at the simple wood desk and pretended to read. Keys rattled as they unlocked his door, admitting his captor.

“Jean-Luc, I trust you are finding you accommodations acceptable?” The tall man motioned to one of the guards behind him. Servants wheeled in a cart filled with food. It smelled delightful and Jean-Luc’s stomach rumbled in appreciation. His “host” sat on the edge of the twin cot and pulled the cart between them. “Please, you must eat. Myrna will never forgive me if you starve while under our care.”

“Enough with the charade, Tyrrell. I’m your prisoner, not your guest.” Picard pushed the cart away, refusing the meal.

Tyrrell waved the tray away. “Suit yourself, Picard. My clients care little whether I deliver you dead or alive.”

“What happened to you, Tyrrell? I thought we were friends?”

“Did you now? Funny, I’m sure the invitation to the wedding was lost in subspace. Or, maybe we are only considered friends when you needed a place to spend a week’s leave.”

“Our wedding was a very small gathering, Tyrrell. Only Beverly’s son and the command crew of the Enterprise were in attendance.”

“Ah yes, I spoke with your lovely wife a few hours ago. She looked quite alarmed when I told her you missed last night’s reception and that we postponed your talk. She mentioned taking the Enterprise to retrace your programmed flight path. I imagine my friends will provide a suitable distraction as well. It would be a pity if something were to befall her.” He stepped towards the door.

“Tyrrell! Leave her out of this. Your argument is with me.”

“Perhaps. But as you have been most uncooperative, with the proper incentive you may change your mind. Think of your lovely wife on that ship of yours while you argue with your hunger.”

Jean-Luc rushed his former friend only to be shoved back hard by the burly guard commander. “Now then, I’ll have none of that. You’d have better luck budging that lighthouse than you’d have against me.” The guard laughed as he secured the door behind him.

Alone once again, he resumed his efforts to loosen one of the bars on the window. Even his small frame would be too large to fit through the opening, but the bar would make an excellent bludgeoning tool.

* * *

“Barclay to Doctor Crusher.” Beverly jumped as the Commander’s voice crackled over the comm system.

“Go ahead, Commander.”

“I’ve finished calibrating the sensors.”

“Stand-by.” She exited the ready room, crossing her legs as she sat in the command chair. She flipped a switch on the arm rest.”

“Ensign, commence scanning, beginning with the last location you noticed a shadow on the scans.”

“Scanning sector 017 mark three four. No sign of any vessel or anomaly.”

“Execute search pattern theta four.”

“Theta four? But standard procedure is to start with one of the alpha patterns …”

“I’m aware of that ensign. Execute pattern theta four as ordered.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Beverly drummed her fingers on the armrest, unaware of the annoyed look her helmsman directed her way. Jean-Luc had once told her that a good captain has to act as if he knows what he’s doing, even if he’s only making an educated guess. Well, she was playing a hunch. One that could cost valuable time if it turned out wrong.

Commander Barclay stepped off the turbo lift an stood off Beverly’s right shoulder. “Interesting choice of search patterns.”

Beverly arched an eyebrow.

“You suspect the shadow is not a malfunction then?”

Beverly was reticent to admit anything in front of the bridge crew. Now she knew why Jean-Luc would sometimes get angry with her when she refused to drop a line of inquiry. She was saved from having to answer by Ensign Roya.

“Ma’am. Sensors are picking up an object, sector 211 mark two.”

“On screen.”

The ensign complied and for a moment there was a tiny spec of light to starboard.

“Magnification 25.”

“Magnification two five.”

For a second, a small ship appeared on the view screen before it vanished along with the sensor readings.

“Ensign, play back the sensor records. See if the computer has a match for that ship.”

“Shall I raise the shields?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to tip our hand. Execute search pattern beta one. Let’s see if we can keep them guessing.” She rose and headed for the ready room. “Commander, a word please.” A dejected Barclay following meekly in her wake.

“Doctor, I apologize. I didn’t mean to question …”

She waved off his apology. “Relax, Reg. You were thinking out loud. I do it myself. Although I’d appreciate if you’d try not to do it front of the bridge crew. Most of them are new and I’m not sure I have earned their trust yet.” Signaling the end to the discussion she motioned for Reg to take a seat. “I wanted to run an idea by you. Do you think you could program the holo emitters to project a false image of the Enterprise outside the ship?”

Reg scratched his head as he considered the problem. “I’d have to reroute some power. Probably from the warp engines as I assume you’d want to have full shields and weapons available.”

Beverly nodded but kept silent. Despite his eccentricities, Barclay was a good engineer. A genius when it came to holo technology.

“Yes, I think so. Although it won’t fool their sensors for long.”

“It shouldn’t have to. I’ll only need a few seconds.”

* * *

The setting sun painted a striking mix of red, blues, oranges and purples across the high bank of clouds. Beverly loved sunsets and they had enjoyed many spectacular ones here on their last visit. He lay back on the tiny cot, giving up on loosening the unrelenting iron bars. Weak from hunger, his mind drifted, and he fell into a restless sleep.

Light footsteps approached the bed before rough arms dragged him to his feet. He woke to the sneering countenance of Tyrrell’s wife Myrna. He blinked. Seventy percent of her once handsome face was covered in scar tissue; her right eye was white with blindness.

“Enjoying the view?” She stepped closer and he looked away. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “Have a look at what you’ve done!”

“What happened?”

“During the war, Pacifica became a refuge. People from all over the Federation came in droves. Our planetary government was overwhelmed. They didn’t have anywhere to put them. So they started confiscating lands. The planet treasury was empty so we weren’t compensated. We lost lands that had been in my family for over nine generations. And still they came. One night, while Tyrrell was in the capital begging our government to start turning people away, a group of four Nausicaans arrived at my father’s farm. They laughed as they shot him. That was a mercy compared to what they did to my mother and I.”

“Myrna, I am sorry for your trouble, but I am not responsible …”

She cut off his reply with a hard slap to the face. “Oh, you sound just like your high and mighty Federation. The Federation who was happy to send its refugees to our world, but wouldn’t lift a finger to help with supplies, housing, jobs. The population of our little world increased ten-fold in two years. Tell me Picard, how were we to cope? Crime, disease, famine. That is what your Federation has brought us.”

“You keep saying my Federation, Pacifica is a member …”

“Yes, yes. And as such we can apply for assistance. Which gets tied up in bureaucratic tape for years. We’ve not received a single supply crate, only more forms to be completed.”

“If you want someone to speak to the Council on Pacifica’s behalf, surely there was a better way than to take a hostage? What about the meeting of the Archaeology Association?”

She barked out a laugh which turned into a cough that rattled her tiny frame. “What meeting? Don’t you get it Jean-Luc? There is no meeting. It was a ruse to lure you here. We tried sending you an invitation on your anniversary, hoping to get you both here and when that failed we appealed to your ego. During your last visit, you prattled on about ruins so much that an invitation to deliver a keynote address would be irresistible. Now, Rufus and Serano are going to make sure you eat something. We can’t have you dying on us before we receive payment. We only get twenty-five percent if the merchandise is delivered damaged.” She limped out of the room, leaving his two guards alone with him.

The larger one, the one she had called Rufus, shoved Picard to his knees. “I don’t much care if you live or die, but Missus has said she’ll take it out of my rations if there is as much as a single mark on you.” With one hand he reached down and rubbed his groin. “There are things though, that will leave no mark …” He thrust his crotch towards Picard’s face, leering down at him. “Now, you can either eat this slop that the Missus has graciously provided, or you can have some of this.” He reached for the fastener on his pants.

Picard slumped back against the bed and reached for the bowl of gruel.

Rufus grinned and slapped Picard hard on the shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance. “Too bad, it has been a while since I’ve had the love a good woman.”

Serano looked on as Picard shoveled the food into his mouth, saying nothing while Rufus kept up a stream of bawdy taunts. Jean-Luc held his tongue. Men like Rufus were quick to anger and it would serve him no purpose to antagonize him until he had a plan to escape. Serano was an unknown quantity. He could either be an ally or his worst enemy.

“Come Serano. Let us leave the dog to his feast.”

Picard heard the lock slide securely into place before two sets of footsteps receded down the hall. No posted guards on the door. He examined the bowl. It was made of hardened clay but otherwise unremarkable. He set it aside. The fork, however, was another story. Made of iron, it was too dull to be useful as a weapon, but perhaps it could help him loosen the bars on the window. He hid it under his mattress before lying down to sleep.


	2. Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Enterprise confronts its shadow.

“Barclay to Bridge.”

“Crusher here. Go ahead.”

“Modifications to the holo emitters are complete. The holographic image will appear off the port bow. No telling for how long though.”

“Understood. Stand-by.”

“Ensign Roya, location of our new friend?”

“The shadow has maintained its distance. Are you sure it is not a faulty reading, ma’am?”

“Display our recent course changes on screen please.” When the ensign completed the request, Beverly added, “Now superimpose the position of our shadow, time lapse minus ten.”

“Ma’am?”

“Just do it, ensign. I have a theory.”

“Aye.” Her fingers danced over the controls and the locations of the shadow exactly matched the position of the Enterprise after each course adjustment. “They are exact match!”

“Very sneaky of our new friends. The slight delay gives their movements the appearance of randomness.”

“They’re hiding in plain sight.”

“Exactly. Roya, plot course 083 mark seven on my mark. Lieutenant Rogers, ready phasers.” She didn’t bother to look back at the weapons officer. Matt Rogers had served on the Enterprise long enough not to doubt her command experience.

“Won’t that take us back to our last location?”

Ensign Roya, on the other hand, still seemed to think someone other than the ship’s Chief Medical Officer should have been left in command. Beverly would need to have a word with her later. “Well, if it is a sensor glitch, there will be nothing there, but if it is another vessel …”

“Then they will either be forced to change course or be discovered. That’s brilliant, ma’am.” The young woman looked at Beverly with new eyes.

Beverly thumbed the intercom switch on the armrest. “Get ready, Mr. Barclay.”

“Ensign Roya, engage. Maximum impulse.” For a split second another vessel appeared in the center of the view screen before it disappeared.

“Fire phasers. Delta pattern. Now, Mr. Barclay.”

The Enterprise’s phaser banks set off a barrage of strikes in a pattern around the last known location of the other vessel. The fifth shot in a sequence of twelve landed a hit, lighting up the small scout ship as its shields absorbed the phaser beam’s energy.

“Direct hit. Their shields are at forty percent,” Rogers reported.

The enemy returned fire, but their sensors were confused by the holographic image off the port bow. The bridge crew watched as enemy phasers passed harmlessly through the hologram.

“Concentrate phasers on their engines.”

“Aye, sir.” Another barrage of phaser fire with three more hits. “Their shields are down. Reading severe fluctuations in their warp engines. Their core is going critical.”

“Crusher to transporter room. Can you get them?”

“There’s too much interference. I can’t get a lock. Boosting power.”

The enemy ship exploded. The Enterprise’s main view screen dimmed automatically as it adjusted to the increased brightness.

Beverly waited.

“Bridge, this is transporter room two. We’ve got injured down here.”

“Bridge to Sickbay. Emergency Med teams report to transporter room two.” She clicked the intercom back to speak to the Chief. “Medical teams on the way. How many injured?”

“Four. Two are unconscious and the other two are minor.”

“Acknowledged. Crusher out.” She turned to her weapons officer, “Matt, were we able to get an id on the vessel?”

“The readings don’t make any sense. According to the computer, that ship went missing fifty years ago.”

“What? That can’t be right. Their technology was as advanced as ours. And their cloak all but eluded our sensors.” She strode over to the weapons station to look over his shoulder.

“He pulled up the image of the missing vessel, the USS Anubis. Declared missing by Starfleet on Stardate 39729.2.”

“One of ours? We must be missing something. I’m going to go down to sickbay and see if I can get anything from our guests. You have the bridge.”

* * *

The door to his cell slammed open, this time admitting a very agitated Tyrrell. “It seems your wife has captured your new benefactors. Tell me Jean-Luc, was this all part of your plan?”

“My plan? You’re the one who brought me here under false pretenses. How could this have been any plan of mine? Now, I’ve been patient, but I demand to know what is going on. Who were these benefactors and what did they want with me?”

“What do the Pakleds always want? They want your ship of course.”

“But why lure me here? Alone?”

“That was personal. And actually more Myrna’s doing. But with you off the ship and your First Officer on leave, the Enterprise was supposed to be easy pickings. I don’t know how they managed to mess that up, but that’s not my concern.”

“They aren’t the most intelligent race in the galaxy. Why did you choose them?”

“They paid half up front. The other half upon delivery.”

“I can understand why they wanted the Enterprise, by why did they want me?”

“Apparently they had encountered you before. The one called Reginod in particular seemed excited.”

Jean-Luc scratched his head. The Enterprise-D had indeed encountered the Pakled early in their mission. But they had struck him as unremarkable, despite their kidnapping of Geordi La Forge. It had been an early lesson about looks being deceiving as they had seemed a rather dull, if needy race. It hadn’t taken much more than a fancy bit of pyrotechnics to convince them to release his Chief Engineer. Something wasn’t adding up. He had no doubt the Pakleds would love to get their hands on the Enterprise, but they would have been far more interested in his engineers than himself. Tyrrell was lying or at the very least hiding something. He decided to play his cards close to his chest. “I’m afraid the name doesn’t ring any bells.”

Tyrrell scoffed. “Not important enough for the likes of one of the Federation’s most decorated Captains?”

Picard, recognizing the signs of a man who was spoiling for a fight, kept silent. After a moment, Tyrrell turned and swept out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m sure Myrna will be by in the morning.”

The guard Rufus made a rude gesture before following his master out the door. The other guard Serano hung back for a moment. He shoved the tray with the bowl of grayish gruel towards Picard, his eyes flickering between the bowl and Jean-Luc.

“C’mon Serano. The serving girls await,” Rufus bellowed from down the hall.

Serano gave Jean-Luc one more studied look before turning on his heel and exiting.

Jean-Luc sat down on the edge of his bed with a sigh. The Enterprise had foiled the Pakled attempt to hijack her. But would Beverly make the connection between the Pakleds and his captivity here on Pacifica light years away? It was such an unlikely alliance. And Beverly had liked his hosts, particularly Myrna. Would she believe them capable of such subterfuge? With a grimace he picked up the clay bowl that contained his ‘dinner’. His index finger brushed against something. He unfolded the piece of napkin adhered to the bottom. The note must have been from Serano. It read:

> _Tomorrow & tomorrow_

Why did he repeat tomorrow? What did it mean? He looked around the tiny room, his eyes landing on the bookcase. There. On the second shelf was a battered copy of Shakespeare’s tragedies. He had noticed the odd collection of books during his first night of captivity, but had forgotten them in his search for a means of escape. He thumbed to Macbeth’s soliloquy where he found a longer message.

> Starfleet intelligence investigating mysterious disappearance of ships in the sector. As yet, unable to find ringleader. Innkeepers middlemen. Volatile. Unpredictable. Be ready tomorrow.

He shredded the napkin into tiny pieces and mixed it in with his untouched meal.He removed the spoon from its hiding place under his mattress and set to work on stone around the iron bar of the window. If Myrna and Tyrrell’s activities had come under suspicion, why hadn’t he been warned by Starfleet Command?

* * *

Beverly sat down at the head of the conference table, reminding herself not to take her customary seat to the Captain’s right. With Jean-Luc was missing and Worf still on bereavement leave, she was the ranking officer. She took a moment to study her assembled staff while she composed her thoughts. They were so very young, except for Reg Barclay, but also Starfleet’s best and brightest. She hoped they were all up to the task. She cleared her throat. “For the past two years there has been an increase in the number of ships that have gone missing in this sector. According to one of our “guests” in Sickbay, most of these can be traced to a loosely organized band of pirates. The crew we apprehended earlier are Pakleds, but according to their commander Reginod, these pirates come from many races, both Federation and non-Federation aligned.” She gave them a moment to digest the information. She wasn’t disappointed when Ensign Roya spoke up.

“Ma’am, if they are loosely organized that means that there is a head. Did the Pakleds provide you with a name?”

Beverly smiled. Roya would go far. “Not exactly.” Tapping a few commands into her data pad, Beverly brought up a chart with the most recent reported disappearances. “These are the most recent disappearances. Does anything jump out at you?”

“Starbase 47 is almost dead center!”

“Are you implying that Starbase 47 has something to do with this? That’s crazy.” At her glare he amended, “Ma’am.”

“Lieutenant, I’m not saying it’s certain, but if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, we have to entertain the possibility it is a duck. If Starbase 47 is not complicit in these disappearances then at best their commander has failed to notice there are ships disappearing from this sector.”

“So how do we determine if they are co-conspirators without tipping our hand?”

“A honey trap.”

“Ma’am?”

“Reg, I’m going to need a holodeck program to simulate the areas of the ship from Transporter Room Two to Sickbay. How long will it take you to get it ready?”

Reg tilted his head, presumably to do a few quick calculations. “The rooms and corridors are already part of the holodeck’s memory banks so that won’t take long.”

“What about people?”

“Provided we don’t have to get too complex that shouldn’t present a problem. Is there anyone in particular?”

“Well Doctor Ogawa, a few nurses, myself, and our Pakled guests.”

Reg chewed his bottom lip. “You want the Starbase commander to think she is in the Enterprise Sickbay?”

“Yes. My hologram doppelgänger will need an excuse to leave her alone with the prisoners.”

“You think she’ll try and warn them?”

“Or worse. The prisoners are a loose end. A threat to her little operation.”

Reg nodded. “I’ll have the program ready in an hour. It won’t be perfect, but it should allow us to fool the Commander.”

“Do it.”

“Ma’am? What about Captain Picard?”

She closed her eyes and preyed her hunch would pan out. “It’s a bit of a coincidence, his disappearance coinciding with the Enterprise picking up a tail. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Is it possible he is being held at Starbase 47?

“Unlikely. It would be too risky. But I’m hoping we’ll at least be able to get a lead. Alright people, if there are no more questions?” When no one spoke up, she stood. “Ensign Roya, plot a course for Starbase 47, warp factor two.”


	3. Escape & Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching the ringleader.

Jean-Luc watched as the sun broke over the horizon. Perhaps it was a sign after a week of misting rain. He didn’t dwell. Tyrrell had appeared rattled by the news that their Pakled conferderates had been apprehended by the Enterprise. And desperate meant dangerous. He could not afford to miss an opportunity to escape.

At the sound of approaching footsteps he replaced the spoon to its hiding place under the mattress and pretended to be asleep. He had worked on chipping away at the base of one of the window’s bars, but he dared not remove it. Rufus wasn’t bright, but he was observant. He needed to be patient and wait for the right moment.

“Rise and shine handsome! It is time for your feast.”

Jean-Luc regarded the guard through slitted eyes. However, he carried no tray of food, his hands were empty except for the blaster.

“What’s the matter, you don’t approve?” Rufus grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and pulled him from the bed. His breath stank of coffee and whatever meat he had eaten for breakfast. “Too bad the boss is in such a hurry.” He stroked a hand down Jean-Luc’s cheek, lingering at the collar of his tunic before shoving him away.

Jean-Luc allowed his momentum to carry him beneath the window. Using the wall for support, he rose slowly, feigning injury to his left leg.

“Move. We mustn’t keep Master Tyrrell and Lady Myrna waiting.”

“I think I’ve broken my ankle. I’ll need your help.”

Rufus, as predicted, strode angrily towards him. As soon as he was within reach, Jean-Luc stood to his full height and yanked on the iron bar. It came lose with a tug. Worf would have been proud as his backhanded swing connected solidly with his tormentor’s right temple. Rufus slumped to the ground unconscious.

“Quickly, you must make for the nearby caves,” Serrano said. “But first, you must strike me too. I cannot risk my cover.” He handed Picard a small bundle. “Here are a few days rations and a skin of water. There are underground springs running though many of the caves. But you must make haste. Tyrrell will send out search parties as soon as he discovers your escape.”

“What about you? Are you in danger for helping me?”

“You must make it convincing. The blow must render me unconscious.”

Jean-Luc grimaced but could see no alternative. “I’’m sorry.” He brought the bar down on the back of Serrano’s neck. Yet another lesson learned from Worf’s self-defense class. He caught the man as he fell, propping him gently against the opposite wall. Grabbing the small bundle of supplies, he spirited the keys off of Rufus’ belt, locking the cell door on his way out. He headed west out of the compound towards the nearest cave.

* * *

“Approaching Starbase 47,” Ensign Roya reported.

“Lieutenant, open a channel.”

The austere face of Commander Wolk appeared center screen. She stood behind two of her staffwho monitored the traffic in an out of the docking bay. “Enterprise, this is a surprise. We were not expecting you. We have several freighters unloading cargo in our docking bays. I’m afraid it’ll be a bit of a wait.”

“Actually, we’re not here to resupply. We encountered a Pakled vessel that may have been responsible for some of the missing ships in this sector.”

The commander furrowed her brow. “It’s rather unusual for the Pakleds to be overtly aggressive.”

Beverly nodded. “Very unusual, however, we were able to beam aboard four of their crew before the ship was destroyed.”

“Very well. We’ll prepare for the transport of the prisoners immediately.”

Beverly held up her hand. “Two of the prisoners have not regained consciousness. The other two are improving but are still in serious condition. I’m not comfortable releasing them from Sickbay yet.”

“What do you propose?”

“You could beam aboard and interrogate them in sickbay.”

“Very well. I’ll contact you within the hour.”

The view screen went blank and Beverly opened a comm channel to the transporter room. “Chief, is everything ready?”

“Yes, ma’am. Commander Barclay reports holodeck two is up and running.”

“Excellent. Stand by.”

Thirty minutes later Commander Wolk was beamed aboard the Enterprise. “Welcome aboard, Commander. I’m sure you’re anxious to interview the prisoners. Follow me, please.”

“What have they told you so far?”

“Well, once we got past their protestations of innocence, they had a very interesting story to tell. According to their captain, they were paid to harass the Enterprise by someone in Starfleet.”

“Did they provide a name?”

“Not yet. The captain became agitated and I was forced to sedate him. It should be safe to wake him now, but I must ask you to keep it short.”

They approached a group of biobeds, the nearest two occupied by the Pakled captain and his engineering officer. “Where are the other two?”

“In the next room on full life support.”

“I see.”

Beverly prepared two hyposprays filled with stimulant. She pressed the first against the Pakled captain’s neck. As the patient began to stir, the intercom squawked. “Engineering to Sickbay. Medical emergency.”

“Crusher here, what’s the emergency?”

“Plasma fire. We have several injured.”

“On my way.” She turned to Commander Wolk, “I’m sorry, Commander. We’ll have to postpone the interrogation. I can arrange for guest quarters …”

“Unnecessary. I will remain here until you return.”

Beverly her team rushed out of the room, leaving Wolk alone with the prisoners. She let herself into the room with the two more seriously injured. She turned off the biobed monitors, disabling the alarms before shutting off the life support. Grabbing a medical tricorder off the table, she verified they were dead and returned to the main room where the captain had just regained consciousness. His eyes went wide with recognition. “You!”

“What have you told them you fool!”

“Nothing.”

“How did you manage to get discovered? You were given the Enterprise’s exact schedule. All you had to do was keep them busy until our friends on Pacifica could deliver Picard! Now you are just another loose end.” She grabbed the second hypospray and jammed it into the Pakled’s neck. As he slumped to the ground, the holodeck program ended.

An Enterprise security team rushed into room.

“Commander Wolk, you are under arrest.”

She gave Beverly a venomous look. “How can you stand it? Being married to the one responsible for so many deaths at Wolf 359?”

“What have you done with Jean-Luc?”

“Me? Nothing. My contacts on Pacifica had instructions to kill him if my associates didn’t make the appointed rendezvous.”

Beverly stood toe to toe with the woman. “Who is your contact on Pacifica?”

Wolk stared icily, refusing to co-operate. Beverly waved the guard to take the prisoner to the brig. “Crusher to bridge. Set course for Pacifica, maximum warp.”

* * *

At maximum warp the Enterprise reached Pacifica in a little over four hours. Crusher stood just behind the helmsman. “Standard orbit. Scan the surface for the Captain’s subcutaneous transponder.”

“Aye.”

“Shall I hail the surface?”

“Negative. I’m sure they know we’re here.”

Beverly sat back in the command chair. Until now, she had always considered herself a patient person. But with Commander Wolk refusing to co-operate, she had no idea how deep this conspiracy went. Examination of Wolk’s personal files at Starbase 47 revealed a scheduled trip to Pacifica next week, meaning Jean-Luc was still alive.

“Doctor, we’re being hailed.”

“On screen.”

“Beverly, have you word of Jean-Luc?”

“Tyrrell,” she forced a smile. “We’ve searched along the route between his last known location and here. There’s been no sign of the runabout.”

“That is most unfortunate. How can I help?”

“I’d like to beam down with a landing party and interview some of the conference guests.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“Why not?”

“In light of recent events, we cancelled the rest of the conference.”

“Well, if it is all the same, I’d like to beam down and have a look around.”

“Of course. Myrna and I will be waiting.”

She motioned for the lieutenant to cut the channel. “Crusher to security. Have an armed detail meet me in transporter room two in five minutes.” She rose from her chair and said over her shoulder as she entered the turbolift, “Ensign, you have the con.”

Beverly verified the phaser rifle was set to stun and stepped onto the transporter pad along side the security chief.

“Ma’am, I still think it would be better if you remained on the ship until my team establishes a perimeter.”

“Noted, lieutenant.” She remained where she stood. “Energize.”

Knowing they were most vulnerable during the split second as they rematerialized, Tyrrell aimed his phaser at Beverly and fired. Her arm burned white hot as her protective armor absorbed the blast that was set to kill. Lieutenant Rogers and his men quickly returned fire, stunning Tyrrell and his men. A shot went wide over Beverly’s head. She spun and fired at a stack of supply crates. Myrna popped up from her hiding place and took aim with her hand phaser. Serano slipped out from his hiding place and knocked into her arm as her finger depressed the trigger. Her shot went wide, but blasted a hole in the side of the wall. As the two struggled for control of the weapon, it discharged again. Serano stood shakily, while avoiding looking at the large hole in his former employer’s chest. He dropped the weapon and raised his hands in surrender. “My name is Serano. I am a member of Starfleet Intelligence.”

One of the Enterprise security team searched him for hidden weapons. “He’s unarmed.”

“Where is Captain Picard?”

“I helped him escape yesterday morning. He was going to make for the caves. You must hurry. I overheard one of the other guards. His food was poisoned.”

“Enterprise, this is Crusher. Have search teams beam down to these coordinates. And have a medical team standing by. It’s possible the Captain may have been poisoned.” She turned to Serano. “Can you take us to the caves?”

He walked over to the operations console and pulled up a map. He pointed to a narrow strip of beach. “We can transport to these co-ordinates. Long range sensors can’t penetrate the caves, but we should be able to pick up life sign readings from close range.”

“Barclay to Crusher.”

“Crusher here.”

“I’ve recalibrated the long range sensors to account for the high neutronium content of the caves. I am picking up faint life sign readings. Transmitting coordinates now. Barclay out.”

They found him unconscious in a narrow offshoot from one of the primary caves. His pulse was thready, beads of perspiration clung to his scalp. Beverly motioned for the med team to come forward. “Give me ten cc’s of cordriazine,” she ordered. Picard stirred as she pressed the hypospray into the side of his neck. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to restrain him. “Easy Captain. We need to get you back on board the Enterprise.” The couple shared a smile before he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.


	4. Epilog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly and Jean-Luc share a quiet moment in their quarters.

She handed him a cup of Earl Grey and sat on the coach beside him. He’d been unusually quiet since his release from sickbay, not even protesting her order that he take a few more days to recover before returning to duty. “Penny for them,” she asked as she sipped her hot cocoa.

“I was just thinking about Myrna and Tyrrell. Wondering if there was something I could have done …”

“Jean-Luc. There was no way you could have known. Myrna chose not to report her attack. Instead she and Tyrrell chose to exact their revenge on Starfleet rather than ask for help. I’m not trying to minimize what happened, but they chose their own path.”

“Mmmm.”

“That’s not all that’s bothering you though.”

“I can’t help but feel guilty about Commander Wolk’s fiance. And there is no question of my responsibility on that account.”

She scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. No matter how many times she tried to convince him that Wolf 359 was not his fault, he wouldn’t forgive himself. The best she could do was to lend her quiet support. He would spend the next few days brooding, but ultimately his responsibilities would pull him out of his funk.

He grasped her hand. “Thank you for saving me. Command was impressed by the way you handled the situation. There is talk of a new class of medical ships. I wouldn’t be surprised if they offered you the first command.”

She sat up to look at him. “I don’t want to be posted away from you, Jean-Luc.”

“Well, it’s a few years off. The ships are still in the planning phase. Perhaps I’ll retire and keep the light on for when you come home.”

She pulled him down for a kiss. They could talk about their future later, right now she had something much more tangible in mind.


End file.
